Embraced (#2 Natives series) #ProjectNigeria

Chapter Thirteen

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Chapter Thirteen

          WEEKENDS IN ADAM BASHIRU MADAKIS' residence was usually very loud. The entire day up till maghrib was used by the head of the house himself to teach willing students hadiths and Quran verses. From ten in the morning to twelve in the afternoon, married and older women had their sessions, and by two to five, children had theirs. However, this Sunday, the Madaki residence was devoid of the usual synchronized and raised voices of melodious recitations. The tall and boisterous date tree underneath which the lessons were given was deserted, save a few straying and misplaced fowls here and there.

Munir Adam Madaki had woken up around quarter past four that Sunday with an inspiration for a contract he hoped to secure. He had been surfing the internet late last night, going through architectural job sites he could find in Nigeria for the fun of it, when he had come across an organization looking to hire a team of architects.

The job was to design and construct a modern and eco friendly five star hotel suitable for Nigerians and foreigners in Abuja. Munir had been instantly drawn to it. As an interior architect the opportunity was good and the pay negotiable. And if he was hired as a member of the team that would work on the project, he could even put all he'd learned from his travels into the job and make a name for himself here in Nigeria. But Munir had been indecisive. His lack of decision didn't just stem from the fact that he had his team of five waiting for his return back in Istanbul, but it also had to do with the fact that he had only planed on staying in Nigeria for a month. He had less than two weeks left.

That night Munir had sought counsel from his Lord in the form of istikhara and because he found himself—for unknown reasons—eager to get the job, he had sent an email concerning the job to Vincent Olamide, a Yoruba and the only other Nigerian on his team. He had met Vincent in Greece during a seminar two years ago and they had bonded instantly. The Yoruba Nigerian was one of the smartest person Munir had ever met. He wasn't just good with his pencil but also with a computer, and he was the one currently shepherding the team in Munir's absence.

Munir had sent the email at past three that morning and was yet to receive a response. He'd dozed off after performing tahajjud prayer and had woken up with an idea as bright as day.

Like a kid on Eid morning, eager and full of pent-up vigor, he had scrambled off the mat, cleared his work table and set out his materials. He'd worked up to Fajr period, certain he knew for sure what he was doing, but by the time he came back from the mosque where he'd gone to perform his first salat of the day with the congregation, his inspiration had been long extinguished. 

He had gone back to sleep only after his numerous failed attempts at recalling the design he'd pictured earlier. At around ten in the morning, he took his bath, dressed up in a knee length forest green khaki pants and white polo shirt before sauntering out of his room.

Munir met his mother in the kitchen upon his arrival, said his tasleem, and then charged straight for the pot of food on the stove. He had no idea why, but he was famished. It's probably because mom cooked the food, he mused with a small smile.

Eleven years. He'd been away from home for eleven years, studying and touring the world with his teammates. Eleven years was an awfully long time for one to go without tasting their mother's food, if you asked him.

He pried into the pot and beamed up at his mother when he saw she had cooked yet again another one of his favorite dish, this one packed with a lot of proteins. He had a lot of favorite food actually, but a large number of them consisted of food his mother prepared herself. He made small talk with his mother as he dished out a healthy portion of the palm oil spaghetti and beans breakfast she had prepared. His sister was locked up in her room, filming. His father wasn't home yet. And his mother, who was clad up in the simple styled atampa and gold jewelries she always managed to look exquisite in, had no idea when her husband would be back from his travels.